


Scheduling Error

by MissNaya



Category: DCU
Genre: Daddy Kink, Exhibitionism, Facials, M/M, Oral Sex, Under-Desk Blow Jobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-13 14:29:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10515645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissNaya/pseuds/MissNaya
Summary: Bruce lets Jason get away with too much.





	

**Author's Note:**

> written for a prompt I got on my [tumblr.](http://dicktofen.tumblr.com/) x-posted there as well. god bless u sinners

“Busy?”

“Actually, I—”

“Good.”

Jason slides onto Bruce's lap and nips his ear, which makes it _very_ hard for Bruce to reach the paperwork he'd been in the middle of looking over. He lets his eyes slide shut for just a second, then, with a sigh, pushes Jason back.

“What have I told you about doing this in public?”

“We're not in public,” Jason says. He's smirking in a way that's positively devilish, eyes half-lidded and dark, dark blue. “We're in your office.”

“Which is as good as public, as busy as I am,” Bruce says, irritable. Jason moves to kiss his neck, but Bruce catches his face before he can, palm pressed flat over Jason's mouth. “ _Jason._ ”

Jason rolls his eyes, but he's still grinning. He gets off of Bruce's lap, but only so he can slide to his knees on the floor. Bruce's desk towers above him, solid and mahogany, giving him a nice little place to hide. Bruce, who wasn't born yesterday, knows exactly where this is going.

“Don't even think about it.”

“What?” Jason cocks his head to the side, cupping a palm over Bruce's crotch. Much to Bruce's chagrin, he's already half-hard. “The big, bad Bat— Sorry, _Bruce Wayne_ can't control himself?”

Bruce looks across the room at the door to his office, blissfully closed (for now). Then he glances at his day planner, grimacing at the pages filled with tight, neat cursive. He has ten minutes, if he's lucky.

“It's not about control,” he says, bristling when Jason kisses him through the fabric of his slacks. “It's about propriety. You're old enough to know that this isn't— _Oh._ ”

Jason, who's gotten Bruce's fly open and dipped his hand in to give him a feather-light stroke, blinks up at him. “Isn't what? What's wrong, daddy?”

Bruce tilts his head back against the plush back of his chair, closing his eyes for a brief few moments in an attempt to get a grip on himself. When he opens them, he glances at the clock before looking back at Jason.

Jason has Bruce's cock in his hand, and he's completely hard now, thick and throbbing. Jason's still wearing that faux-concerned expression, and god, Bruce wishes he had the time to properly wipe it off of his face.

He sighs. Leave it to Jason to make him consider doing something so completely inappropriate.

“You have five minutes.”

“Mm.” Jason presses his lips to Bruce's shaft, and Bruce thinks, heat rushing through him, that Jason could make him come in half that time if he really wanted to. “You mean _you_ have five minutes. I've got all day...”

“Jason—”

Then Bruce can't speak, because Jason's silky mouth descends onto him, and his thoughts are lost to a haze of pleasure.

In seconds, Jason has his length dripping with saliva, one strong hand wrapped firmly around the base of his cock. Jason's good, and he knows it, sucking the head of Bruce's cock on every upswing, taking him deep into his throat whenever he descends. If he keeps up that pace, they might stay on schedule, and Bruce has to admit that this isn't the _worst_ way to relax midday...

Then Jason slows down, licking up and down Bruce's cock with long, pointed strokes. Bruce glares at him, face flushed, but Jason just flicks his tongue at the sensitive spot under Bruce's cockhead, and it's hard to stay angry.

He checks the clock. Five minutes have passed. Only a few more until his next meeting is scheduled.

“Jason,” he growls, low and dangerous and _very_ Batman, fisting a hand in Jason's hair. Jason's brow furrows and he whimpers, but he resists Bruce's attempts to shove him down on his cock. “Jason. I don't have time for—”

“Mr. Wayne, I have a Mr. Melville here to meet with you,” comes his secretary's voice over the intercom. Bruce curses under his breath and lets Jason go.

“Don't mind me,” Jason whispers, giving the head of Bruce's cock a wet little kiss. “I'll be quiet.”

Bruce stares at him. Jason flutters his lashes, pointedly trying to look more innocent than he is, and both of them know Bruce doesn't buy it. Still, it's hard to ignore the way Jason's ministrations make his cock twitch.

“Mr. Wayne?” his secretary says again, and Bruce, finger on the intercom button, cannot believe he's about to do this.

“Send him in,” he says, clipped and distracted.

Jason smirks.

  


His meetings don't last long, mostly consisting of other businessmen stopping by to chat about projects and partnerships. Bruce never stands to shake their hands, hunched over a pile of paperwork. It's not exactly the most polite image to project, but most of his guests are about as busy as he is, and understand that a CEO's workload doesn't often allow for pleasantries.

He thanks god Jason kept his promise to be quiet.

It's hard to focus on his own thoughts, let alone what people are saying to him, when Jason's between his legs, hot mouth manipulating him all the right ways. Every time he gets close, _every_ time, Jason draws back, treating him to little more than the warmth of his breath ghosting over the head of his cock.

By the time his fifth meeting rolls around, Bruce's legs have started to tremble. He can't remember the last time he was so aroused.

(No, wait. It was probably the first time Jason called him “daddy,” he thinks. Yes, that sounds about right.)

He fixes his current guest with a tight-lipped smile, hands folded on his desk. He's thankful for all his years spent honing his emotions and clamping down on his physical reactions; were it not for that, he'd almost certainly be whimpering Jason's name by now, company be damned.

“I hope,” he says, “that answers your questions. All of them.”

“Oh, for sure, Brucie!” the man says, glancing at his gold-plated watch. “Sorry to talk your ear off. You know, we never get together any more. Last time I sat down with you, it was, what was it? The banquet at Mara's place. What was it for, again? Was that the GCPD fundraiser? Or was it... No, that was at your place. So what am I thinking of? Jeez, it's been a busy year, I can tell you that...”

Bruce thinks of the phrase “if looks could kill.” He can feel Jason smirking around his length, can feel the vibrations from his nigh-silent chuckle.

“Trevor. You're doing it again,” he says, smile frozen on his face.

“Am I...? Oh, you're right! My bad,” Trevor says, pushing his Armani sunglasses down over his eyes. “Anyway, I'll catch you later, man. Keep up the good work, huh? You're really killin' it out there!”

“Mhm.” Bruce drums his fingers on his desk. “Clarissa will see you out.”

“Course she will, what a doll.” Checking his smartphone, Trevor distractedly makes his way toward the door. “You know where to find me.”

And finally, blessedly, he leaves.

Bruce leans back and frowns down at Jason. Jason, smiling against the head of his cock, starts to laugh.

“What's a matter, _Brucie?_ Cat got your tongue?”

Bruce rolls his eyes and yanks on Jason's hair. Jason's smile vanishes instantly, and he yelps, though it doesn't sound like he's in pain.

“A-ah...” Jason licks his lips, staring up at him with half-lidded eyes. “You're not too happy. Okay. I feel that. But you know what I think? I, ah— I think you need to lighten up. See, I was just trying to—”

“Jason.”

He shuts up.

“Open your mouth.”

Jason obeys.

Bruce is fast and hard and brutal, fucking Jason's face with abandon. Jason lets him do it; he has a feeling both of them are too far gone for any more teasing by now. When he feels himself get close, Bruce tugs Jason's head back, and with a few more frantic strokes, he spills himself over Jason's face. Thick ropes of cum splash over Jason's lashes, his lips, his tongue, even as far up as his forehead, and Jason moans the entire time, practically _whining_ for it.

By the time he's done, they're both breathing hard. Jason's cock is straining in his pants, but before he can touch himself, Bruce presses the toe of his expensive shoe into Jason's crotch.

“...The CEO of MedTech should be here any second. You can hold out for another half hour or so, can't you, Jason? You _do_ have all day, don't you?”

Jason's eyes go wide. “What? No! Hey, lemme up. Bruce, you can't be fucking serious. I'm not just gonna— Do I at least get a tissue? Bruce? ...Are you ignoring me?! _Bruce!_ ”

Bruce smiles, keeping one foot pressed down on Jason while he shuffles through a stack of papers. He really does slack off on discipline, doesn't he? Oh well. No time to start like the present.

 


End file.
